In 2023, I made the single-most impactful New Year’s resolution of my life. The few months prior, I’d experienced amazing highs (buying a beautiful house to make a home) and unnerving lows (a senior dog being diagnosed with brain tumors and a cancer scare of my own). With cortisol out of whack and eyes wide open about the recent rollercoaster, my therapist encouraged me to seek habits to help regulate my nervous system and focus on a sense of wellness outside the most surface level definition. I needed a reset and ongoing practice that was low effort, high impact - my favorite combination in most things - and a resolution that my sometimes skeptical self could really commit to. It was simple, “this year I will get more massages”.
It was an easy enough goal considering my annual massage average at that point hovered around a measly two. But on my birthday in late January, I treated myself to a massage at a small, local chain to bring this resolution into focus. The space was ethereal and calm, a signature scented candle welcoming guests into the experience. It was also an approachable set up, avoiding the somewhat intimidating (to me, at least) elements of froofy spas in favor of simplicity, and putting me at ease in a relatively unfamiliar environment. Before I arrived, I called to ask about robe size and if they had any that were plus-size friendly. They reassured me that there were no common spaces or robes necessary. All undressing was to the guest’s comfort level in an individual space. Oooooof massive sigh of relief.
My relationship with my body at that point was marred by a lifetime of unsolicited feedback, a decade-long marriage that had grown platonic shortly after it began, and a recovered bout of disordered eating that resulted in more body than I was ready to embrace. The massage therapist explained that I should place my belongings in the basket and undress to my comfort level as they briefly stepped out of the room. I climbed onto the table and under the sheet wearing my leggings and socks - not ready to have anyone see or touch the majority of this vessel I inhabit. After fifty minutes of Swedish-inspired massage, I realized it was more physical touch than I had experienced in years. The sense of connection to my body was flickering in the distance and I was taking deeper breaths. On my way out the door, I signed up for a subscription to hold me accountable to my resolution and to myself.